Stop Scaring Off My Girlfriends
by NoStoryUntold
Summary: John is tired of Sherlock interfering with his dates and he's had it.
1. Chapter 1

The door slammed and Sherlock heard John stomping up the stairs. Mrs. Hudson called up after him, "Everything alright dear?"

"Brilliant!" John called back in a frustrated tone. Sherlock smiled to himself as he placed the jar of eyeballs back in the microwave. He stepped out of the kitchen as John entered the living room and walked past him towards the cupboard.

"Something the matter John?" Sherlock asked although he was fairly certain from the stain on John's vest and the fact that he was home early, that John had gotten into a fight with one of his lady friends again. Jackie? No, Veronica. Maybe Erica. His guessing was interrupted as John began shouting.

"Yes! Yes there is something very wrong!" John replied as he slammed the tea kettle on the stove. Sherlock tried to hide his smile as John continued.

"Every time I'm out on a date, something goes wrong and it always seems to have something to do with you! Last week, Emily got a text while we were at dinner from a random number saying I'm in an exclusive relationship with Sherlock Holmes and now she won't return my calls. Today, Jenny and I were out to dinner when Mycroft showed up and ruined everything! This isn't the first time either! He's pulled me out of a date before this! Honestly Sherlock, this is getting ridiculous!"

The kettle started screaming so John turned around and poured the hot water into a cup and waited for the tea to steep. He took deep breaths while gripping the counter tightly with both hands. Sherlock walked back to the living room and sat in his chair to wait for John to bring his cup and sit down. He steepled his fingers beneath his chin and gazed at the ceiling while John took a seat still glaring at him.

"Well Sherlock? Are you going to say anything?" Sherlock merely smiled as he brought his gaze to meet John's and rested his hands on his legs.

"I would think it was obvious even to you John." Sherlock replied. John's eyebrows furrowed even deeper in confusion and frustration.

"Well sorry but it's not. Would you care to explain?"

Sherlock stood up and began pacing around the room as if he were thinking about a case. "Honestly John. We've lived together for long enough, I thought you would have caught on to something!" As he talked, Sherlock's gestures became more expansive and his voice held more inflection.

"Think about it! You first moved in here because you enjoyed the thrill and danger. You were intrigued and wanted to see what would happen. Every time we've gone out and solved cases, you've been happy. Then, each time you take a woman on a date, something always comes up and the relationship rarely lasts more than a month. Can you really blame this on anyone but yourself? You are the common denominator!"

"But I'm NOT! You are Sherlock! It's always because of you! I actually want to be in a relationship!" John exploded, almost spilling his tea and his face started turning a dark red.

Sherlock turned from the mantle to look at John. "If that's the way you want to see it, then I'm going to leave it there. I don't mean to interfere, honestly John. You can't blame me for everything my brother does. I will, of course, work harder to stay out of your love life," Sherlock looked at the carpet as he spoke the last sentence. He walked to the coat rack and put on his coat.

"Where are you going?" John asked incredulously. He would have mentioned the hour since Sherlock never went out alone past 8 unless there was a case. But there wasn't and this was Sherlock so he didn't bother.

"Out. Just want some air," Sherlock said over his shoulder as he headed down the stairs with his scarf in his hands. John sighed and sat back in his chair still frustrated and with more questions now. _Honestly, I can't understand the bloody wanker. Why can't he just express his feelings? It can't just be me. _Resigned to wait for the morning to continue the discussion, John sighed again and took his tea to his room.


	2. Chapter 2

John awoke to the sound of glass breaking and a loud yell that sounded like Sherlock followed by a thud. He jumped out of bed, grabbing his gun, and ran towards the noise. There were no lights on in the house and it was still dark outside, making it difficult to see anything. When he reached the living room, he could see the silhouette of someone lying on the floor in front of the fireplace and heard moaning coming from that general direction.

"Sherlock?" he asked as he reached to turn on the lamp but he couldn't find it so he went to turn on the kitchen light, gun gripped tightly in his hand.

He could see Sherlock sprawled on the floor with the lamp broken beside him. John immediately rushed over, avoiding the broken glass with his bare feet. "Sherlock! What's wrong?" John asked as he reached down to help him up.

After a minute of struggling, groaning and manhandling, John finally got Sherlock onto the couch. Relatively certain he wouldn't move and he wasn't dying, John set his gun on the desk, cleaned up the glass and went to make tea.

"John!" Sherlock called from the living room as John walked in with two cups of tea. The clock on the table shone 1:27 a.m. as John set the cups down and went over to the couch.

"What's wrong Sherlock?" John asked, kneeling down next to him.

"Why are you only wearing boxers John?" Sherlock asked confused with his eyes glazed and unclear.

"Because it's 1:30 in the morning and I was in bed Sherlock. Where have you been?" John asked as he handed Sherlock a cup of tea and pulled up a chair.

"Oh, well, I was out at the pub. Why didn't you come with me? Oh right, you're mad at me for interfering in your love life. Right, right. Well I'm trying but it's not like he makes it easy, I mean just look at the way he acts," Sherlock began rambling, seeming to forget that John was there.

"Sherlock! What are you talking about? Are you drunk?!" John asked, cutting him off. He'd never seen Sherlock like this before.

"Yes John. I am, as they say, pissed. Quite a nice feeling honestly. Why are you so mad at me John?" Sherlock asked, looking at John for the first time, his eyes clearer than they had been.

"I'm not angry with you Sherlock. I was upset earlier but I understand why you interfere and it's okay." John said leaning forward in his chair.

"What?"

"Drink your tea Sherlock. You need to go to bed and sleep this off." Sherlock looked at his cup as if just noticing it was there. He took a sip and sat back on the couch.

"John?" He asked quietly looking at the floor.

"Yes Sherlock?"

"Are you glad you met me? Are you happy?"

"Yes Sherlock. You're my best friend. Nothing happened to me before you. Why are you so worried about this Sherlock?"

"I'm not," Sherlock said with a small smile. He set his empty cup down and stood up unsteadily. John got up and helped support him.

"Let's get you to bed," John said, which prompted a giggle from Sherlock that John ignored. He helped him up off the couch and they made it to the bedroom where Sherlock fell onto the bed. John helped him take off his shoes and coat then covered him with the blankets.

"Thank you John. Good night," Sherlock said as he pulled the covers up to his chin.

"Good night Sherlock," John replied


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock groaned at the pounding in his head. Had he been hit? He struggled to remember through the pain. Then the memories hit him. He had gotten drunk and stumbled home to John like an idiot. He ran a hand through his hair as he sat up. Looking at the clock on the night stand he focused his eyes to see it was 10:12 a.m. and there was a glass of water and pain pills sitting there waiting.

Sherlock staggered into the living room to see John was sitting at his computer working on his blog and having a cup of coffee. Sherlock picked up the mug and drained it while barely opening his eyes to the bright morning light streaming in from the windows. "Good morning," John said as he looked up from the screen to watch Sherlock struggle to get it together.

"Hardly good my dear Watson. Is there more coffee in the kitchen or do I have to call Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock asked while pinching the bridge of his nose.

Thoroughly enjoying this new side of Sherlock, John smiled as he answered, "I'll go brew some more. Why don't you take a shower and soak that head of yours. You'll feel better." He chuckled as Sherlock just nodded and winced his way back down the hall to the bathroom. John sat back down for several minutes knowing that it was going to take Sherlock at least a half hour to stumble back out. No matter how tough he played, he was a bit of a lightweight.

When Sherlock did reenter, he had chosen to stay in his bathrobe but his curly hair was now dripping. John handed him his mug and sat back down at his computer while Sherlock took a seat in his chair and nursed his cup. As John typed, he watched Sherlock from the corner of his eye to see what the fierce detective would do next in his hungover state.

"John," Sherlock quietly said with a slight groan.

"What is it Sherlock?" John asked, turning towards him.

"Can you not make that sound? It's quite irritating and I'm having trouble controlling the beating in my head. My mind palace seems to have disappeared for the time being." Sherlock said, still not opening his eyes to the light.

John tried to hold in his laugh as he closed the computer and sat down in his chair across from Sherlock with the paper. Mrs. Hudson came upstairs after a few minutes and greeted them with her normal cheery, "Good morning boys!" Which earned her a groan from Sherlock and a quiet shush from John. She looked at them oddly, not realizing that Sherlock's closed eyes, huddled posture and death grip on his coffee was not him in his mind palace but rather his defense to the hangover he was experiencing. John stood up and led her into the kitchen with a small smile.

"What's going on dearie?" She asked concernedly looking towards Sherlock.

"He has a hangover," John explained with a chuckle while Mrs. Hudson looked at him shocked.

"You got him drunk? That's very irresponsible of you John!" Mrs. Hudson shook her finger at John angrily.

"It wasn't me!" John exclaimed holding his hands up. "He went out and got pissed by himself then stumbled in at 1:30 this morning. I had nothing to do with it!" Mrs. Hudson looked towards Sherlock with a surprised look on her face and then turned back to John with her eyes narrowed.

"Well what did you do to upset him? Did you two have another domestic?" She asked with hands on her hips.

"What? No. We were talking about my love life and then he said he'd stay out of it. After that he said he was going out for air. I was so angry I didn't go after him and figured he was just out doing something alone like he wanted to."

"Oh sweetie," Mrs. Hudson said with a shake of her head. "Well, there's not much we can do now I suppose. Now you look after him and get him anything he needs alright?" She turned and went back downstairs still shaking her head.

Sighing, John grabbed the coffee pot and walked back to the living room to refill Sherlock's cup. Sherlock had laid down on the couch with his arm over his eyes and was mumbling under his breath. John set the pot on the table and walked to close the curtains. He turned around to see Sherlock sitting up and reaching for the pot. John couldn't hold in his chuckle as he went back to join Sherlock.

"How are you feeling?" John asked sipping his coffee and leaning back on the couch.

"Not remarkably splendid but much better than earlier, thank you." Sherlock leaned back next to John with his cup and closed his eyes. Enjoying the silence, John continued to drink his coffee and wait until Sherlock decided to speak again. He had begun dozing off when he heard someone coming upstairs. He looked over and Sherlock was curled up, asleep, next to him. Lestrade walked through the door turning towards Sherlock's chair and about to speak when he realized it was empty and turned towards the couch. He looked at John, who was bleary eyed, and Sherlock sleeping quietly next to him.

"Umm, I came with a case," he said holding up the folder in his hand. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, he had a bit of a night last night. Went out and got pissed then stumbled back in around 1:30 this morning." John said getting up off the couch, careful not to wake Sherlock. "He has a hell of a hangover. Figure we should just let him sleep it off." He spoke quietly.

"Right. Well, when he does wake up, would you mind giving him this? It's giving us a spot of trouble." Lestrade held the folder out to him and John took it.

"Sure," he said then they stood staring past each other, not sure what to do.

"Well I'm off. Give me a call if anything comes up. Thanks." Lestrade nodded and headed down the stairs. John set the folder on the desk and walked to the kitchen to see if there was anything to fix for lunch.

He was finishing up his sandwich when Sherlock walked in yawning. He picked up the sandwich and took a bite while John just stared at him. "Well good afternoon to you too." John said as he started making another sandwich.

"I see Lestrade was here. Doesn't look like much of a case. Don't see why they need me. Then again, they've never been the brightest lot." John just grunted his agreement as he turned to pull the kettle off the stove and pour tea for them. He handed Sherlock a mug and a plate to put his sandwich on before turning to pick up his own and walk to his chair in the living room. Sherlock followed with a small smile.

They ate in silence while occasionally glancing at each other. John finally broke the silence by asking, "Feeling better?" Sherlock just grunted and continued drinking his tea. "So I take it that you don't have much experience in drinking?"

Sherlock sighed and set his mug down. "I am quite capable of handling alcohol John. I just made it a point to get drunk last night. Not my best decision." John stared at him for a minute before setting his own mug and plate down.

"You got drunk on purpose?" John asked slowly.

"Yes," Sherlock looked at him, expressionless.

"Why?" John realized this was going to be like pulling out teeth.

"Because I wanted to," Sherlock shrugged.

"Sherlock," growled John through gritted teeth. "Why did you want to get drunk? If anything, I should have been the one to go out and get pissed. Just stop with the games and tell me why." He demanded locking eyes with Sherlock.

"Very well John. If you insist on me spelling it out for you," Sherlock stood up to pace, unable to keep himself still anymore.

"I do insist." John said, watching him from his chair. "I got drunk because I wanted to stop my mind from thinking. I wanted to stop thinking about you. You and those women. None of them have been good enough. They never will be in my opinion but I had decided to stop interfering. Mycroft however seemed to decide he needed to do so on my behalf." He trailed off staring at the skull on the mantle. John let the silence hang between them, knowing Sherlock had more to say.

Turning back towards John he continued, "He knows I've been in love with you since the day we met. He always thinks he knows best. I told him that you just enjoyed the danger and that you were interested in women. I still couldn't help myself from feeling jealous and I am sorry for the dates I ruined, not all of them intentional. I should have told you earlier, I just wanted things to stay the same because I knew you would leave and.." The words came pouring out of him in a rush as he began to pace the room again.

"Sherlock," John said sharply, cutting off his stream of consciousness. Sherlock pulled up abruptly turning to look at him, fear written across his face. "For a genius you really are an idiot." John said smiling as he stood up and walked towards him.

"John?" Sherlock asked, fear turning into confusion. "I love you too. I don't know why, but I do, and I could never leave." He stopped in front of Sherlock, looking up at the taller man who stared back, speechless.

"John," was all Sherlock could say, unable to find a room in his mind palace to place this new information. John leaned up and kissed him softly. Sherlock stiffened in shock before relaxing and kissing him back. They pulled apart after a minute, both smiling.

"Feel better?" John asked, enjoying the dazed look on Sherlock's face.

"Yeah, much," he responded smiling wider looking very pleased with himself.

"Good, now go get dressed. I promised Greg you would help with that case," John said pushing him towards his room.

"Who?" Sherlock asked, brows furrowed in confusion as he let himself be ushered out of the room.

"Lestrade. The case you've already solved? And then I'll take you to dinner. Now get dressed." John pushed him into his bedroom and closed the door behind him. He turned back to the sitting room to pick up their dishes smiling from ear to ear.


End file.
